


The Cost of Kindness

by HufflepuffChildOfApollo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter Friendship, Draco Malfoy & Ron Weasley Friendship, Draco Malfoy in Glasses, Draco is friends with the trio, Feedback appreciated, Gen, Gryffindor Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy Friendship, Light Angst, Narcissa and Lucius are a bit crazy, Right?, because azkaban, draco's raised by Andromeda and ted, he's not a jerk in this one, just a bit, lots of timeskips because you've already read the books, not yet anyway, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2019-10-01 00:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 16,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17234354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HufflepuffChildOfApollo/pseuds/HufflepuffChildOfApollo
Summary: What happens when Lucius and Narcissa are arrested for conspiracy with the Dark Lord, and Draco is sent to live with his aunt and uncle? Read on to learn what challenges he faces, and all the things that might have been.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Divided Dragon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11572449) by [Enigmaticrose4](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enigmaticrose4/pseuds/Enigmaticrose4). 



**December 18th, 1980**

A young man and woman walked down a dark, snow-covered street. A baby cried in the woman's arms, tired and cold.

   "Shh. Hush, it's alright. Be quiet," the woman whispered. "We mustn't be heard," she said desperately, glancing around. 

   "Narcissa, would it not be safer to Apparate?" her husband asked. 

    The woman, Narcissa, glanced at him. "It might hurt Draco," she replied, holding the baby closer to her chest. 

    "Well, he'll freeze before we get there. Or someone will catch us."

    "You should have thought of that before you lied to the Dark Lord's face," she hissed.  

    "It was for our own good," he replied in a low voice. "You're aware of my situation."

    "You chose to let them live, Lucius. And now you've turned Rosier and Avery against us -" She cut off sharply, looking around frantically. 

    "What is it?" Lucius asked, glancing around. 

    "Nothing, trick of the light, I suppose." She walked on, holding the baby even closer. "Come on, we have to get home before he freezes..." 

    Just then a jet of green light shot past, narrowly missing her cheek. She looked around wildly as Draco started to cry again. Lucius drew his wand, biting his lip. "Who's there?"

    "Who do you think, Lucius?" a voice hissed, and another jet of light zapped past Lucius's nose as Avery stepped out of the shadows, flicking his wand.

    "Go away, now. The Dark Lord won't be pleased if you harm one of his most loyal followers!" Narcissa warned. 

    Avery laughed. "He sent me after you. He wasn't too happy to find out his  _loyal follower_ lied to his face." he smirked. 

    Lucius aimed his wand, but Avery Disarmed him before he could say a spell. 

    "Now, Lucius, don't make this harder than it has to be.  _Petrificus totalus!"_ he hissed as Lucius tried to step in front of Narcissa. 

    Narcissa gasped, taking a step back from Avery. She grabbed Lucius's hand, still holding Draco close. 

     "Now, now, Cissy...no need to be afraid," Avery said.

     Narcissa bit her lip and turned hard on her heel, and a moment later she, Lucius and Draco were in the drawing room of their mansion. Draco was crying again, and she hurriedly tried to calm him as she ran to the nursery.

     She kissed his head and laid him down  in his crib.  "It's okay, darling. I'll be back." She ran  back down the stairs, drawing her wand.

     Rosier was waiting for her, his foot planted on Lucius's back. Lucius was unconscious, his hands cuffed. 

     "Rosier, let my husband go!"

     "I don't think I will," he replied, smirking. " _Incarcerus_!" he hissed, and Narcissa was bound tightly in red ropes. 

     "The Ministry will love having you..." Narcissa heard him say, as the ropes tightened, until she slipped away into unconsciousness.

* * *

 The next morning, Lucius and Narcissa were  arrested for conspiracy with the Dark Lord, and a group of Ministry investigators were sent to their manor to do a thorough search, led by Jacques LeThargy, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

    Jacques shivered, looking around the now mostly empty house.  _How could anyone live in this place? It's freezing..._

    "Jacques! There's something you need to see!" Jacques's trainee, Dania, walked into the room, holding a small bundle of blankets in her arms. 

     Jacques frowned and walked over, looking at the bundle. "What is it, Dania?" he asked, though he had a feeling he already knew. 

     Dania moved aside one of the blankets, revealing a small, very pink face, two blue-gray eyes peering out at them. A small curl of blond hair, nearly as light as the snow outside, rested on the baby's forehead. 

     "Oh, dear..." Jacques said quietly. "I wasn't aware they had a child..."

      Dania looked at him incredulously. "Don't you read the news?"

      " it's all rubbish these days... " he said, staring at the baby in Dania's arms. "I suppose we'll have to contact Family Services..."

     "I think he has an aunt. She's got a daughter a little older than him. "

     "Well, it's up to Family Services where he goes," Jacques said. 

      Dania sighed. "Yes, Jacques. Where should I take him?" 

      "Back to the Ministry. You can have the day off after you take him to Family Services."

       Dania nodded, swaddling the baby tighter, and walked away. 

       Jacques sighed and went back to work, his quill scribbling away on his clipboard. "Alright, let's try and get this done quickly!"


	2. Chapter one

Draco's alarm clock always seemed to wake him up an hour too early. It should've been impossible; It was magical, and therefore was always set to wake him up when he'd gotten all the sleep his body decided he "needed", but it still didn't seem to be enough. This morning it woke him at eight, which would be perfectly fine if he hadn't been awake until three in the morning, watching horror movies with Dora.   
    Draco reluctantly got out of bed, fumbling around his bedside table for his glasses. Once he'd put them on, he blinked a few times to get rid of the foggy, just-woke-up blur. He got up and got dressed before stumbling to the kitchen to get his breakfast.   
    "Morning Dad," he mumbled, nodding to his father, who was sitting at the kitchen table with his coffee and a newspaper.   
    "Morning, son," Ted Tonks replied, turning a page of yesterday's copy of the Daily Prophet.   
    "Is there any coffee left?" Draco asked, half joking; He wasn't allowed to have coffee. Still, a guy could dream.   
    "No, Draco," his father replied firmly. "You can get some chocolate milk if you want, Mum just got milk at the store."  
    Draco nodded. "Alright."   
    As he was reaching past the many, many open, half-drunk bottles of soda in the fridge to reach the milk, someone reached in and ruffled his hair.  
    "Morning, sunshine! Sleep well?" his sister, Dora, asked tauntingly.  
    "Not really, no. Thanks for that, by the way, I really enjoyed my dreams about killer clowns and ax murderers," he snapped.   
    "Dora, what did I tell you about letting him watch horror movies?" Draco's mother said, walking in with a basket of laundry on her hip.  
     "Oh, mum! He wanted to watch them!" Dora argued.  
     "When he was two, he wanted to eat the stapler. We didn't let him do that, did we?" Mum said.  
     "Listen to your mother, Nymphadora," Dad said. "You're 18 now, you have to be responsible."   
     "He's almost eleven!" Dora argued, her hair turning red at the roots.   
     "And when you were almost eleven, you didn't like to watch horror movies either," Mum pointed out.  
     Draco bit his lip, getting a bowl of cereal and attempting to escape.   
     "Not so fast, young man," Dad said. "Your bedtime is 1:30, and I could hear you getting to bed well after 3:00."  
     "Dora wouldn't let me leave!" he complained. "It wasn't my fault..."   
     "Draco," his mother said in a reproachful voice. "You're going to bed at 11:00 tonight---Both of you," she added, and the smirk that had started to form on Dora's face dropped off.  
     "What!? That's not fair, I had plans tonight!"  
     Draco smirked. "Should've thought of that sooner," he said, walking out---he didn't mind going to bed at 11:00, and really the only reason he didn't every night was because...well, he felt a sort of obligation to stay up until bedtime.   
     He went out to the back porch and sat at the table, tossing a few pieces of cereal to the family owl, Terrace.   
     "That owl is so weird."  
     Draco jumped, nearly falling out of his seat, and succeeding in knocking his bowl off the table. "Where'd you come from!" he asked the girl who'd seemingly appeared from thin air.   
     "Mum says the stork, but my biology textbook seems to think otherwise," she said. "I'm Hortensia Maverick."   
     Draco adjusted his glasses to look at the girl; She was about his age, with long black hair,  unnaturally pale skin, and eyes the color of the chocolate milk in his glass; he'd never seen eyes that color.   
     "What's your name?" Hortensia asked, snapping him out of his admiring trance.  
     "Oh, um...I'm Draco."  
     "Draco...?" Hortensia asked, obviously waiting for his surname.   
     He sighed. "Tonks..." he said quietly. "Go ahead and laugh, I'm used to it."   
     "Why?" she asked.   
     "Cause my name is ridiculous..." he sighed.  
     "Hey, when you've got a name like Hortensia, there's no room to laugh," she said, and when Draco looked at her, she looked completely serious.  
      He smiled a little. "I suppose that's true."  
      She smiled. "So, are you related to that girl who's always changing her hair?"  
      He nodded. "She's my sister."    
      "She is? You don't look much like her. I just noticed you had the same last name."  
      "Yeah, I get that a lot. But she's...had a lot of work done, let's say," he said.   
      "Oh, I see." Hortensia nodded understandingly.   
      Draco laughed quietly to himself.  _Oh, if she knew..._  he thought, taking a sip of his chocolate milk.  
      "Is your hair really that color?" Hortensia asked. "It looks bleached."  
      "Yeah. Not really sure how it got this way, both my parents have brown hair. Their eyes, too. Mum said something happened to my eyes when I was little, that's why I need these." He tapped the rim of his glasses.   
      "Hmm. Have you ever thought about wearing contacts?" Hortensia asked.  
      "I've tried it, but it was a pain. I kept forgetting to take them out. Mum says glasses make me look smarter, though, Dora said that's the only thing about me that's smart."  
      "Well, you seem pretty smart to me. I can usually tell about people."  
      Draco smiled a bit. "Thanks."   
      Hortensia nodded slightly.   
      Draco suddenly remembered his cereal, and went to pick the bow up, only to get nipped on the hand by a large, very annoyed owl. "Terrace!" he exclaimed in frustration.   
      Hortensia tilted her head. "You named the owl?"  
      "Yeah...my family's rather unorthodox with pets..." he said, examining his hand. "Well, he didn't break the skin..." he carefully picked up the bowl, avoiding Terrace's talons.   
      Hortensia raised a brow. "Why's the owl named Terrace? Did you mean to say Terence?"  
      He sighed. "I named him when I was five..." He could feel his face growing warmer.   
      She giggled. "Well, it's a very interesting name. I should probably be getting home. See you around, Draco!" She ran off the porch, across the street.  
      Draco smiled, waving a bit before he stood, taking his now-empty bowl into the kitchen.   
      "What's got you all moony-eyed?" Dora asked as he walked into the kitchen.   
      "I'm not moony-eyed!" he snapped, feeling his cheeks grow hot again.   
      Mum raised a brow, taking his bowl and putting it in the sink. "He was talking to Hortensia, that new girl across the street."  
      Dora smirked, looking at Draco. "Oooh, does ickle Drakie have a girlfriend?" she teased, ruffling his hair.   
      "I do not!" he said, pushing her off.   
      She laughed. "Whatever you say...I'm off to see Charlie, he's headed out for Romania again next week so we're gonna catch a movie."  
      Mum nodded. "Alright, but be back by five, I need your help making dinner."  
      "Got it," Dora said, ruffling Draco's hair again. "Take care, bub," she said as she walked out the door.  
      Draco grumbled irritably. "I'm gonna go take a nap," he muttered, and went up to his room. He spent a while lying awake before he finally drifted off to sleep.


	3. Chapter two

Draco woke up when it was still dark, feeling wide awake, his stomach aching dreadfully. He frowned and looked at his clock.

     _5:00?_ he thought, and turned over to go back to sleep, but after an hour of tossing and turning, getting up, turning the radio and fan off and on, he finally got up.

     He threw on a t-shirt and jeans, and his glasses of course. He tiptoed to the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea; He didn't have to worry about the kettle whistling and waking anyone up, as it was charmed to heat up instantly when someone poured it.  

      "Can't sleep?"

      "Agh!" He spun around, brandishing a spoon.

       Dora chuckled. "Settle down, bub. It's only me."

       He frowned and smacked her on the arm with the spoon. "Don't scare me like that!" he whisper-shouted. 

       She smirked and ruffled his hair, then frowned, pressing her hand on his forehead. "Feeling alright?"

       His eyes widened slightly. "I'm fine. Why, is something wrong?"

       She nodded gravely. "I think you might have  _Excors morbosis_..."

       He frowned. "What?"

       "It's been going around a lot, you might have caught it," she said. "The effects can be painful, even deadly. And you've got a few of the symptoms."

       "What are the symptoms? Or effects?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level. 

       "Oh, waking up at uncharacteristic hours, eating less than usual, loss of intelligence, lack of social skills, inability-to-figure-out-your-sister-is-pulling-something-on-you, in some cases death-"

       "Sorry, what was that middle one?" he said, suddenly suspicious.

       "Lack of social skills?" Dora said, looking at him. 

       "No, after that." 

       She smirked. "Inability-to-figure-out-your-sister-is-pulling-something-on-you?" 

       His eyes widened in understanding, then narrowed. "Why, you absolute bi-"

       "I should wash your mouth out with soap!" she snapped, clapping a hand over his mouth. He growled and licked her hand, causing her to pull it away. "Eww!" she groaned, wiping her hand on his shirt. "You disgust me." 

       He raised a brow and got his tea, walking out. "I think you may be the one who's sick, you're the one who put your hand over my mouth. I'd think you'd have learned..."

        She rolled her eyes, walking out of the kitchen. Her slippers made a swishing noise on the floor, and Draco gritted his teeth at the sound. "Be quiet, Dora!" he hissed. 

        "Oh, be quiet yourself. If Mum could sleep through you screaming every time that clown came on-screen, she can sleep through anything."

        He scowled, sipping his tea. "Shut up..." he said. 

        "Whatever." She got her wand and jacket, and changed out of her boots and into sneakers.

        "Where are you going?" Draco asked,  noticing she wasn't wearing her usual boots.  "It's 5:30 a.m..."

          "Training. We're doing stealth  today, so I can't wear my boots..." she said, sighing. "I hope these will help."

          "You know they're only  _called_  sneakers, right?" he asked.

          "Shut it, they very well could work. They're better than those abominations you wear."

       "They're sandals, Dora. They're practical and comfortable, and not at all loud or clunky."

       "Not when you wear them with socks. And not when you wear the ones with heels."

       "How was I supposed to know they were for girls?" he snapped.

        She shook her head. "You're not helping your case." She grabbed her satchel. "I'll be back tonight, tell Mum and Dad not to wait up."

        "Alright." He waved.

        She waved and walked out the door. 

        Draco sighed, finishing up with his tea, and went back to the kitchen to get some breakfast. 

        As he was getting some cereal, an owl flew through the window, a letter in its beak. 

        He raised a brow and took the letter, stroking the owl's head. 

        The letter was addressed in green ink to Mr. Draco Tonks, the kitchen, number 13 Kestrel Street, Ottery St. Catchpole.

         Draco smiled excitedly and opened the letter, reading through it. He grinned as he read the letter. 

         ~HOGWARTS SCHOOL  _of_  WITCHCRAFT   _and_  WIZARDRY~

         Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

          _(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump,  International Confed. of Wizards)_

         Dear Mr. Tonks,

         We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of  Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed  a list of all necessary books and equipment.

          Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than June 5. 

           Yours sincerely,

           Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

        Draco grinned, getting out the list of  supplies and reading through it, his hands shaking slightly. "Mum! Mum, come here!"

         His mother walked in, "Are you alright, dear? You're shaking like a leaf..." she asked. 

          "My letter came!" He grinned excitedly. 

          Her eyes widened. "That's great!" She walked over, hugging him tightly. "We'll have to take you to Diagon Alley for your things... "

           "Can we today?"

           "We don't have to go right away, we should probably wait until it's closer to the start of term. Now, go get some sleep, it's too early for you to be up. "

           He nodded and kissed her cheek before running to his room and sitting on his bed, a pen and paper  in his hand. As he hastily wrote a letter, using his best penmanship and sealing the envelope carefully, he couldn't help but  worry a little. 

            _What if I get put in Slytherin? Mum said it runs in the family...But Dora was in Hufflepuff, so really anything could happen...I wonder how they'll Sort us?_

He finished writing the letter and gave it to the Hogwarts owl before sending it off. He laid down on his bed, staring at the ceiling until he finally managed to go to sleep. 


	4. Chapter three

                                **DEATH EATERS RELEASED FROM AZKABAN**

   **Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, "Former" servants of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, were released from Azkaban prison on Sunday, July 28th, after serving a sentence of nearly eleven years for conspiring with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, as well as counts of murder and crimes against Muggles on Lucius's part.**

**The couple have reportedly moved back into their old house, which for the past eleven years has sat empty (likely because nobody could afford to buy it), but have been denied custody of their son, who turned eleven years old a little over a month ago, and will be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this September.**

**According to sources, their son has been raised by Narcissa's elder sister, Andromeda, and her husband, Edward Tonks. They have raised the boy as their own, alongside their daughter Nymphadora, who is currently undergoing training to become an Auror.**

**Naturally, outrage was sparked by the release of these two individuals, and protests have been held outside Ministry headquarters in London, drawing attention from the Muggle population and wizards alike.**

**The Ministry's answers to questions regarding their decision to release the Malfoys  have been evasive to say the least. We at the Prophet are still awaiting new information about this topic, and if you or someone you know would like to be interviewed by me, Rita Skeeter, please owl me to set up an appointment.**

                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 ****"This is outrageous!" Nymphadora exclaimed when Ted showed her that morning's copy of the Daily Prophet. "They shouldn't be allowed to publish this!"

     "Just don't let Draco -"

     "Don't let me what?" Draco asked, walking into the living room. 

     "Nothing," Dora said, walking over and ruffling his hair. "Don't worry about it."

     He grumbled, pushing her hand off. "I'm not a kid anymore..."

     She chuckled. "Tell that to your Erumpent Rampage pajamas."

     "I haven't worn those since I was eight!" he protested, glaring at her. "And besides, who's the one who has bubblegum-pink hair 90% of the time, and obsesses over the Weird Sisters?" he retorted. 

     "Oh please,  I found your secret stash of bootleg tapes..." 

     "You did not! You're not allowed in my room!" 

     "Cut it out, you two," Dad said, folding up the newspaper. "Draco, are you dressed? We're taking you to Diagon Alley today."

     Draco grinned excitedly. "Alright!" He ran to get ready, and spent about an hour in front of the mirror, liberally applying hair gel and slicking back his hair.   
     Dora walked by and laughed loudly. "You're going out in public with that on your head?" 

     He scowled at her, then looked back at the mirror, sighing. He ran his hand through his hair, making it stick up a little.

     She walked over. "Here, let me help..." she ruffled his hair, messing it up. "You really need a haircut." 

     "I don't  _want_  a haircut..." he mumbled, but Dora ignored him.

     "God, how much gel did you put in? It's like a trying to comb a Knarl..." she complained, grabbing a comb and wetting it in  the sink.

     Draco backed away. "What are you doing?" 

     "Getting that gunk out of your hair, now stand still." She wet a washcloth.

     "No! It's fine how it is..."

     She rolled her eyes. "Relax. I won't hurt you." She combed through his hair, sending flakes of dried hair gel and broken strands of hair falling into the sink.

     Draco winced. "I thought you said it wouldn't hurt..." 

     "Well, it'd hurt worse if it was all dry. Now, stand still."

     "Fine...Can you hurry?"

     "Calm down, jeez...you've got all day." 

     "Fine..." Draco stood still until Dora finally finished fixing his hair.

     "There. Now you look less like a 50-year-old man," she said. 

     Draco looked at himself in the mirror, brushing broken strands of hair off his shirt. "It's nice," he said, looking at Dora. "Thanks."

      "No problem." She gave him a quick hug. "Have fun with getting your supplies. Don't wander into Knockturn Alley."

     "What are you, my mother?"

"Nah, I just don't wanna have to peel you off the boots of some Dark Wizard." She flicked his glasses, tipping one side up. "I've got to get to training. See you later, bub!" She turned and ran out, and Draco could hear her crashing into the doorframe from several rooms away. He rolled his eyes and went to get dressed.

      "Draco! Are you ready yet?" his mother called. 

      "Almost!" he replied, running out of his room with his shirt halfway on. "When are we leaving?"

      "Soon as you finish getting ready," she said, helping him straighten his shirt. "There." She kissed his forehead. "You've gotten so tall, I bet you'll be the tallest in your year."

       He shrugged. "Can we go now?" he asked impatiently.

       She chuckled. "Alright," she said, walking to the fireplace and getting down the jar of greenish-grey powder. She threw some into the fireplace and green flames erupted, burning tall and warm, but not hot.

        "Alright, you go first, dear." She nudged Draco forward.

        He stepped into the fireplace, blinking as ash stung his eyes. "Diagon Alley," he said, as clearly as he could, and shut his eyes tightly.  _I hope I don't get sick again,_ he thought, remembering his last use of Floo Powder. Then he started spinning out of control.


	5. Chapter four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to keep Draco's and Harry's conversation as close to the original one from the books as I could.

_(first-person point of view)_

I tumbled out of a fireplace, coughing. My glasses were covered in smoke and ash, obscuring my vision. I stood quickly, brushing the soot from my white shirtwhy did I wear a  _white_  shirt?and blew the ash off my glasses, putting them back on and looking around to see where I'd ended up.

   It appeared to be a secondhand shop, with tattered books, half-empty inkwells, and a lot of stained, torn, and shrunken clothes. A long, narrow mirror hung on the wall, words etched into the glass in some long-forgotten language. An ancient owl-perch stood beside the fireplace, a pail of wet Floo Powder hanging on the branch, which was carved to resemble an arm. 

   I wandered through the maze of old, probably forgotten, rather mildewed things. 

     _Where is the door?_  I wondered. _Oh Merlin, I hope I haven't ended up in a blocked-off shop_...I was close to panicking when an old, bent-backed woman walked up to me.

     "You alright, dearie?" she asked, her brow furrowing with concern.   
       
     I nodded, looking around. "Yeah...Um...How do you get out of here?" I asked, looking back to the old woman, who chuckled.  
       
     "Oh, don't worry. Just follow me, and try not to step in anything."   
       
     I followed the woman to the front of the shop, where she unlocked the door.  
    
     "Take care, young man. Don't get lost."  
     
     "I'll try not to. Thanks," I said, heading off down the street. I looked around until I saw my mother waving to me from in front of the bank. I ran up to her, breathing a sigh of relief.   
      
     "Oh, here you are...where'd you end up? We were at  Dervish and Bange's..." she asked, smoothing down my hair.  
     
     "Some secondhand shop. Got lost inside until someone showed me out."   
     
     Mum nodded, hugging me. "We've got most of your things, we still need your wand, robes, and if you like we can get you an animal,Terrace has gotten a bit old after all."   
     
     I smiled. "Alright."  
     
     Dad smiled. "Come on, I'll take you to Madam Malkin's. 'Dromeda, you wanna go look at wands?" he asked. Mum nodded, kissing my cheek, and headed off down the street.  
      
     Dad led me to a shop that had 'Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions' on the door in big, flowery letters.  
      
     He handed me a bag of money, ruffling my hair. "I'll be back in a bit. I'm gonna go get your books."   
     
     I nodded, trying to fix my hair. "Alright..."  
   
     "If I'm not back by the time you're done, go on down to Ollivander's," he said. "Take care." He walked out, heading off down the street.  
       
     I sighed, heading further into the shop. "Hello?" I said, looking around. 

    A short, stout woman wearing festive-looking robes, who I assumed must be Madam Malkin, appeared around the corner of a rack of blue-and-purple dress robes.  
      
     "Yes, dear?" she said, walking over.  
      
     I waved slightly. "Hi, um ~~"~~

     "Ah, Hogwarts robes, I'm guessing?" she asked, pushing me toward the back of the store, where there were a couple of stools and a tall mirror. 

     I hopped onto a stool, and a tape measure appeared out of thin air. It zipped around, measuring from my neck to my ankles, shoulders to wrists, and around my neck. A second witch walked over with a set of robes.   
     
     "Arms up!" she said, and I held my arms up as she pulled the heavy robe over my head. She looked at the list of measurements that appeared, written on a pad of paper on the wall, and started pinning up the sleeves and overlong hem of the robes.   
      
     "You want an extendable hem or regular?" she asked, tossing away a bent pin.

     "Extendable," I said, remembering Mum's instructions:  _"Get extendable sleeves and hems, I want these robes to last a couple years."_

     "Blue or green thread?"

     "Blue."

     "You'll be wanting a cloak with it, yes?"

     "Yes, black please," I replied. 

     "Silver fastenings, right?" she asked.

     "Is there any other option?" 

     "No."  

     "Then yeah, silver." I sighed softlySilver wasn't exactly my favorite color in the world. 

     In a little while, I heard the bell at the front door ring as it opened. I looked up and saw a scrawny, spectacled boy with messy black hair. Madam Malkin ushered him over to the stool beside me, and started measuring him.

      "Hullo," I said, deciding to start a conversation. "Hogwarts too?" 

      "Yes," he replied.

      I smiled a little bit. "My Dad's next door buying my books and Mum's up the street looking at wands," I said. The boy seemed to be listening vaguely. "Then I'm gonna get them to let me look at racing brooms. I've got a broom at home, but it's my sister's old one, and it's all pink and stuff...It's not very fast either...I figure if I can get Dad to buy me one, I'll smuggle it in somehow."

      I was half-joking, but the boy looked appalled. 

      "Have  _you_  got your own broom?" I asked, trying to change the subject. 

      "No."

      "Play Quidditch at all?" 

      "No," he said again, looking confused. 

      "I do...Dora says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my House, and I can't say I disagree. Know what House you'll be in yet?"

      "No," the boy replied, looking increasingly uncomfortable. 

     "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they? I'll probably be in Hufflepuff. Most people say they're a bunch of duffs, but I disagree. Of course, half my family are in Hufflepuff, so I might be biased. Mum was in Slytherin, and she's alright, but from what she's told me she was more or less the exception to the rule."

     "Mmm," the boy said, but I hardly heard, I'd been distracted by something.

     "I say, look at that man!" I blurted out before I could stop myself, staring in disbelief at the humongous man standing outside, grinning at the boy and pointing to two large ice creams. I stared in bewilderment. 

     "That's Hagrid," the boy said, sounding pleased. "He works at Hogwarts."

     "Oh," I said, trying to remember what Dora had said. "I've heard of him. He's sort of a servant, isn't he?" 

     "He's the gamekeeper," the boy said defensively.

     "Yes, exactly. I heard he's sort of  _savage_    lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed," I chuckled quietly, recalling what one of Dora's friends had told me. 

     "I think he's brilliant," the other boy said coldly. 

     "Oh...do you...?" I suddenly had the urge to change the subject. "Why's he with you? Where are your parents?"

     "They're dead," he replied shortly.

     My eyes widened slightly. "Oh...sorry." I bit my lip. "They were... _our_  kind, weren't they?"

     "They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean." 

     "Oh. Mine too, though Dad's Muggle-born, though I don't see much difference except in the first month or so of going to school; I mean, they're gonna have a disadvantage, not really knowing our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they got their letter, imagine."

     I suddenly remembered something. "What's your name, anyway?" I asked, but before the other boy could answer Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and the boy hopped off the footstool, looking grateful to be leaving.

     I bit my lip, inwardly cursing myselfthe swearing kind, not the magic kindand looked at him."Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose!" I said, and I could swear I heard him groan. I bit my lip, fidgeting slightly as the witch who was pinning my robes finished.

     "Done!" she finally said, and I sighed gratefully.

     "Thank you," I said, stepping down from the stool. I paid for the robes and walked out, going up the street to Ollivander's wand shop.

     It was an ancient, dusty place, and there were hundreds, maybe thousands of long, narrow boxes stacked to the ceiling. I vaguely remembered coming here when Dora was getting her first wand; I was about four at the time. I looked around, getting a slightly tingly feeling. The very air in the shop seemed to shimmer with some sort of magicOf course, it could just be dust.   

     Mum appeared around a corner. "Ah, Draco! I've already found a few wands that might work for you!" she said cheerily, directing my gaze toward a spindly chair in the middle of the room, which had a tall stack of wands on it. My mood lifted a little  This was it! I was finally going to get a wand! I looked at Mum, who nodded. "Go on, try one out!" she urged, and I picked up the box on the top of the stackI had to stand on tiptoe to reach it. 

      "Ahh, Alder and Phoenix feather, 14 1/2 inches, slightly springy," A soft voice said from behind me. 

      I spun around, brandishing the box and staring at the man in front of me. His wide, pale eyes stared back at me, shining even in the dim, gloomy atmosphere of the shop.

      "Alder is the best wood for non-verbal spell work. Best suited to an advanced witch or wizard," he said softly. 

      I took the wand out of the box, looking at its smooth design; A small lattice-like pattern was carved into the grip, and it curved slightly, rather like a claw. I took it in my hand, looking at Mum, who smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. I smiled a little and waved the wand, but before much could happen, Mr. Ollivander snatched it away, replacing it with another.

      "Applewood and unicorn hair. Ten and a half inches, unyielding." 

      I waved the wand, but again it was snatched away. My mother frowned. "The pear one?" she suggested, but Ollivander shook his head, walking over to a shelf and taking boxes down, occasionally looking at the list of measurements Mum had provided him. As I tried out more and more wands, the stack on the chair grew lower and the one on his desk grew higher, and my mother grew more anxious.

      "Ahh." Mr. Ollivander brought a box over, opening it and placing the wand in my hand. "Hawthorn and unicorn hair. Ten inches, reasonably pliant." 

      Mum looked at him, frowning. "Do you think...?" she began to say, but Ollivander silenced her.

      "Go on, give it a wave."

      I cleared my throat and waved the wand, expecting it to be taken away again. So you can imagine my surprise when brightly colored smoke and sparks shot out of the end. My mother looked at Ollivander, seeming angry. I looked at her, confused, but Ollivander took the wand, putting it in the box.

      "Hawthorn wands are particularly good for healing magic, you know," he said, placing the box in my hands as Mum paid the seven Galleons for the wand. 

     "Have a good day," Ollivander said. Mum didn't reply, ushering me out quickly. I looked at her, puzzled, but she didn't seem to notice.

      "Come on, let's go find your Dad. He's likely lost in Flourish and Blotts." She forced a chuckle, but she still looked troubled. I didn't press the matter. 

      When we went home later, Mum was still oddly silent, and Dad was trying to explain how exactly wandmakers get the core into the wand. I half-listened to him, but my mind was on my mother, still wondering why she'd seemed so upset in the wand shop.

      I ran up to my room as soon as we got home, getting out all my books and starting to read through them. I smiled a bit to myself.

       _I'm really going to school,_ I thought ecstatically.  _It's really happening. I'm a real wizard._ When I went to bed that night, I still had a smile on my face.


	6. Chapter five

"Draco! Wait! Do you have your cat?" Draco's mother called, running alongside the train.

   "Of course I have him, Mum! I've got everything!" Draco sighed, leaning out the window. "Love you!"

    "I love you too! Make sure and write often! Oh, did you remember your pajamas?" 

    Draco frowned, unable to really hear her anymore. "My what?"

    "He'll be fine, 'Dromeda. Anything he forgets, we'll just mail to him with a Howler." Ted put his arm around Andromeda's shoulders. "Remember, we've done this before."

    Andromeda sighed. "I hope he makes some friends...I'm worried, what if they bully him? They likely know what happened with his parents..."

    "We are his parents, dear. He'll be fine." Ted kissed Andromeda's cheek, sighing. "We oughta get out before traffic gets bad."

    Andromeda smiled a little, nodding. "Alright, let's go."

* * *

    Draco sighed, closing the window and sitting down in the corner of the otherwise empty compartment. He looked around, taking in the details of the compartment; A crack in the wood paneling, a tear in the upholstery, a creaky, rather tarnished luggage rackrack, countless handprints, nose-prints, footprints and even Chocolate Frog prints. He smiled a little, relaxing, but the door sliding open loudly startled him and he sat up suddenly. 

    "Hey! Draco, right?" Hortensia asked, smiling. Her perfect teeth shined, and her purple-brown eyes sparkled, and her black hair was pulled back in a neat bun. Behind her was a girl with a pug-like face and slightly greasy hair. She looked at Draco, squinting.

    Draco bit his lip, looking at Hortensia. "Um, yeah. And you're Hortensia, right?"

    Hortensia's smile widened. "Yeah!"

    Draco smiled. "I didn't know you were a witch."

    "Oh, my whole family are. Mum, Dad and Sadie. She's my little sister." Hortensia smiled, sitting down. The pug-faced girl followed suit, her eyes roving over Draco judgmentally. Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

    Hortensia looked at the two of them. "Oh. Draco, this is Pansy Parkinson. Pansy, this is Draco Tonks." 

    Draco waved awkwardly to Pansy, who looked away, her face a little red and her nose wrinkling. "Isn't his family full of blood traitors?" she asked in a nasally, high-pitched voice. Draco looked away uncomfortably, biting his lip.

    "Pansy! Don't be so rude!" Hortensia scolded. She looked at Draco. "Sorry about her."

    Draco shrugged. "It's okay. I'm used to it." He smiled a little bit. 

    Pansy rolled her eyes. "I'm going to sit with Theodore..." She stood, walking out. Hortensia sighed, shutting the door and looking at Draco. 

    "So, how was your summer? I didn't see you around much."

    He shrugged. "It was alright. Dora was ridiculously annoying. It was hot. I nearly drowned in Dora's friend's lake. Nothing out of the ordinary."

    Hortensia chuckled. "I visited a few relatives, got a little bit of a tan."

    Draco raised an eyebrow skeptically; Her skin looked just as pale as always, but he said nothing, merely nodded. 

     She smiled, looking around. "Know what House you'll be in yet?" she asked, her gaze fixed on him  now. He shook his head. She smiled. "I'm almost certain I'll be in Slytherin...my whole family have been."

     Draco shrugged. "My Mum was in Slytherin, but Dad and Dora were in Hufflepuff, so there's no real way to know. I'm fine anywhere." 

      Just then the compartment door opened, and a girl walked in. She had brown, bushy hair, rather large front teeth, and was already wearing her robes. 

    "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville can't find his." She had a rather bossy-sounding voice, Draco thought. 

     "I'm afraid I haven't seen it, but if we do we'll tell you," he said. The girl turned and looked at him, then gasped.

     "You're Draco Malfoy! I've read all about your family."

     Draco frowned. "Um...sorry, I don't know what you're talking about, but I think you've got the wrong person. My last name is Tonks." He looked at Hortensia.

     "Ohhh. Well, I'm Hermione Granger. And you? What's your name?" she asked Hortensia.

     "Hortensia Maverick. And I haven't seen the toad either."

      Hermione Granger nodded. "If you see it, let me know." She turned and walked out of the compartment. 

      Draco bit his lip, looking out the window. Hortensia sighed. "Crazy weirdo..." she muttered, closing the door and leaning back in her seat. 

     Draco shrugged. "It was just a mistake."

     Hortensia rolled her eyes. "Mistakes can cause deaths and wars." She dug in her bag and got out a large, flat board with raised edges and a bag of what looked like mud-brown marbles. "Wanna play Gobstones?" she asked. Draco smiled, nodding.

    They played for a while, Hortensia winning five times out of seven.

    "Best of ten!" Draco said, and they were about to start a new game when there was some rather loud talking outside the door.

    "Harry Potter's on the train, have you heard?"

    "Yeah, those ginger twins told me, he's hanging out with their brother! Imagine!"

    Hortensia rolled her eyes, setting up the board again. They started their game, and Draco seemed to have a solid lead, but the compartment door opened, distracting him and making him miss his shot.

     "Anything off the trolley?" 

     An old witch pushing a large trolley of sweets was outside the compartment, a kind smile on her face. 

     "Oh, sure!" Hortensia said, getting out her change purse. "Can I get two Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, a licorice wand, and ten Chocolate Frogs?" 

     The witch nodded and gave Hortensia the sweets before turning to Draco. He thought for a moment before getting everything Hortensia had, plus a couple Chocolate Cauldrons. He and Hortensia paid for the sweets and the witch left, calling, "Anything off the trolley?"

     Draco opened a box of Every Flavour Beans, picking out one that looked like it could be marshmallow flavor. He cautiously nibbled at the end, grimacing at the taste of dust. "Ew..." 

     Hortensia laughed, opening her own box and getting out a bright cherry-red bean. "How much you want to bet that this is blood flavored?"

    Draco tilted his head. "It looks more like lipstick. I'll give you a Sickle if you're right."

    Hortensia smiled and put the bean in her mouth, chewing it. She grimaced.

    "What is it?" Draco asked. 

    She swallowed hard. "Nail polish." She wiped her mouth, gagging. "Your turn, Tonks."

    Draco smiled and got a dark green bean, tossing it in the air and catching it in his mouth. He chewed it, thinking. "Hmm."

    "Asparagus? Sprouts? _Mimbulus Mimbletonia_ slime? "

    "Watermelon." Draco smirked. 

    Hortensia rolled her eyes, picking out a dark blue bean. "Catch!" she said, tossing it to Draco. He caught it in his mouth, then swallowed it as quickly as possible. 

    "Ugh, dish cleaner."

    Hortensia laughed, taking a handful and eating them all. "Hmm," she said, her mouth full. "I'm getting blood, vomit, lemon zest, asphalt, wet dog, furniture polish, corn, oatmeal, and rainwater."

     Draco chuckled and got himself a handful, chewing for a while. "Hmm. Chicken, lettuce, burnt bread, burnt  _hair,_ socks, copper, glazed donuts, fish, ew...fingernails, fried green tomatoes, and dog nose."

     Hortensia laughed, shaking her head. "I won't ask how you know if you don't ask me."

     He nodded, smiling. "Deal." He opened a Chocolate Frog, looking at the card as he bit the frog's head off. "Oh look, I've got Merlin!"

    Hortensia smiled, getting a Frog and shoving it in her mouth whole. "I got Morgana."

    He smiled. "Cool. I've got twelve of her." 

    The two conversed about everything they could think of until well after dark. They got changed into their uniforms at some point, and then Hortensia went to talk with some of her friends.

    Draco sighed, staring out the window, looking for any sign that they were getting close. He felt his eyelids getting heavy.  _When are we going to be there?_ he thought, standing up and walking out of the compartment. 

As he passed by a compartment, he caught a glimpse of jet black hair, and he paused, looking through the window. His eyes widened as he saw the boy from the robe shop. He knocked on the door and the boy looked up. The red-haired boy across from him looked up too, and Draco recognized him as the younger brother of one of Dora's friends. 

    The boy  from the robe shop opened the door, and Draco smiled in what he hoped was a friendly way. "Hi."

    "Hello," the boy said quietly, seeming wary.

    "I...um...I wanted to apologize for whatever I said before that offended you. Could we start over?" Draco asked. "I can help you with avoiding bullies and stuff. You don't want to make friends with the wrong sort..." He offered his hand.

    "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks," the boy said, and started to shut the door, but the redheaded boy spoke up.

    "Harry, wait! I know him, Charlie told me about him! His sister was friends with Charlie."

    Draco smiled gratefully at the redhead, looking at the black-haired boy, who nodded slightly. "Alright."  Draco held out his hand again, and this time the boy took it. 

    "I'm Draco Tonks," Draco said.

    "I'm Harry. Harry Potter. And this is my friend Ron." 

     Draco's eyes widened.  _"The_  Harry Potter? Oh, wow! I've heard you were on the train, but I didn't think you'd be _here!_ My mum's cousin knew your parents, best friends with them in fact...Sorry, when I get excited I tend to ramble."

    Harry smiled a little bit. "It's alright. Why don't you come sit down?"

    Draco smiled. "Thanks! My friend Hortensia's gone off to who knows where,and it's a little lonely sitting in a compartment alone, and I'll just shut up now..." Draco trailed off, sitting down in the nearest seat to the door. 

   Before much longer, the train stopped and everyone got off. Draco checked on his cat, who was fast asleep in his pocket. He smiled a bit and walked with the rest of the first years to the platform, where Hagrid was standing, holding a lantern and yelling, "Firs' years follow me! Come on, firs' years over 'ere!" 

    He led them to a group of boats on the lake, and assigned four of them to each boat. Draco got in one with a round-faced girl with reddish brown hair, another who had blonde hair in pigtails, and a tall, weedy-looking boy with sand-colored curly hair. 

    The boats rowed themselves across the lake, and before long Draco was able to see the castle; It was truly magnificent, like something out of a storybook. The turrets and towers and arches all came together to make a huge structure, with bridges and hundreds of windows. 

     _This is amazing!_ Draco thought as he stepped out of the boat, into the boathouse under the castle.

    Hagrid walked up to the massive door and knocked three times; After a moment they opened and a tall, stern-looking woman with black hair pulled into a tight bun and square glasses walked out, looking over all the students. 

    "Welcome to Hogwarts. If you will follow me please."


	7. Chapter six

Professor McGonagall led the students inside, to a large, rather grand entrance hall. She gave them a few minutes to smarten up and get themselves a bit more presentable. In that short amount of time, about a hundred ghosts gave a surprise visit to the first-years. 

    Professor McGonagall soon came back, and led them all into the great hall. Draco bit his lip, looking around the Hall. He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling like he'd swallowed a stone that had sank to the bottom of his stomach. He forced himself to look toward the front of the hall, where a three-legged stool stood with an old, patched hat sitting on it. As the students watched the hat, a rip near the brim opened upand it started to  _sing._

 _"Oh  you may not think I'm pretty,_  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
  
So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

Draco felt the stone sink even lower. None of those descriptions seemed to fit him. He  bit his lip, looking around. Professor McGonagall walked forward, holding a large scroll of parchment.

    "Now, when I call your name, you will come forward, place the Sorting Hat on  your head, and be Sorted into your House." She cleared her throat, unrolled the parchment, and called, "Abbott, Hannah!"

    Draco watched as the line of students shortened. Professor McGonagall had reached the H's now. He half-listened, biting his lip. Finally she reached the M's. 

    "Maverick, Hortensia!" 

    Hortensia walked forward. The hat called out, "SLYTHERIN!" before it even touched her head. She smiled and walked over to the table of students clad in green.

    Draco smiled a little, then zoned out again, and before long he heard his name called.

    "Tonks, Draco!"

    He went forward, sitting on the stool. Professor McGonagall set the hat on his head, and it slipped down over his eyes. 

    "Hmm...difficult..." a voice said in his head. "Very difficult."

    Draco glanced up, biting his lip.

    "You have plenty of brains...ambitious....brave, too. Hoping to prove yourself? Get out of your sister's shadow...Slytherin would fit you well...Gryffindor too...Hufflepuff, a bit of a stretch, but you'd manage...Well...better be..."

     Draco shut his eyes tight, his fingers crossed. He hoped that the Hat wasn't going to simply give up trying to Sort him, or just make up a new House so he'd have to sit alone (He'd dreamt of that happening once). Time seemed to freeze, and it seemed like hours had passed, when the Hat finally roared out it's answer.

"...GRYFFINDOR!" 

    Draco sighed softly in relief. At least the Hat hadn't made up something stupid like GrungleBunk and sent him there for being too difficult to Sort. He stood up and made his way to the table of students in red; Harry and Ron were already sitting there, along with some other redheads who were definitely related to Ron. 

    "Nice! We're in the same house!" Ron said, grinning. Harry smiled slightly, before getting pulled into a conversation with  Ron's brothers. Draco looked over at the Slytherin table, where Hortensia  was having a conversation with another Slytherin girl. When she noticed him, she waved, grinning and showing off perfectly white, albeit a little crooked, teeth. 

    Draco waved, smiling, but a little sorry he wasn't sitting with her. He wouldn't have minded being in Slytherin, though before leaving, when he'd mentioned it to his mother, she seemed, oddly enough, against the idea, though she wouldn't say why. And at the moment he wasn't feeling much like a Gryffindor; The only part he could see was the 'nerve'— he was definitely nervous. 

    After a magnificent feast, Draco followed the Prefects to the Gryffindor dormitory. He looked around as they walked up the many flights of stairs, gazing at all the portraits and paintings. He'd never seen so many. 

    The group of students stopped in front of a large painting of a...well, large, lady, wearing a pink dress.

    " _Fortuna major,"_  the Prefect, Percy (one of Ron's brothers) said, and the painting swung forward, revealing a doorway that led into a large room full of armchairs, couches and other furniture. Over the large fireplace hung a painting of a lion, all over the walls were banners and pennants, and even posters (with moving pictures, of course) of the Gryffindor Quidditch team's wins and losses. 

    "The boys' dormitory is upstairs to your left, girls, the same on your right. You'll find all your belongings have already been brought  up," Percy said. The students split off into groups of boys and girls and headed up to the dormitories.

    When the boys found their dormitory, there was a small argument between Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan over who would get which bed, but Draco ignored them and chose a bed between Neville and Harry. His cat, a small calico named Tabby, curled up on his pillow beside his head.

     He closed his eyes, curling up under the covers, and he soon fell asleep.


	8. Chapter seven

The first two weeks went by too fast, and it was all Draco could do to keep up with his homework. He'd taken to studying with Hermione; She was quite pleasant to be around, once you got past the bossiness. Hortensia joined them occasionally, but mostly she didn't like being around Hermione. 

   "My parents," was all she said when Draco asked her about it one day. "They don't want me hanging around with her kind." Draco had tried to question her further, but she'd cut him off with, "Pass me a quill?"

    Other than that, he'd become quite close to Hortensia, and they spent most of their free time together.

    Now Draco sat in the common room late at night with a blanket around his shoulders, trying to perfect a sticking charm to stick a piece of paper he'd drawn on into the front of a book. He'd never been good at drawing, but he knew Hermione's birthday was coming up in a few days, and he'd be damned if he didn't give her something. 

    "Draco? What're you still doing up?" a voice said from behind him, and he turned to see Lavender Brown standing there, wearing rather frilly purple pajamas and a matching dressing gown. 

    "I'm just working on something..." Draco muttered, moving to hide the drawing, but Lavender was too quick, and had already seen. 

    "You're staying up late so you can fix a...book?" Lavender asked, eyeing him skeptically. 

     Draco sighed. "It's for Hermione," he muttered. "Please don't tell her," he added, remembering the girl's tendency to gossip. 

     "Oooh, Hermione?" Lavender said, with a hint of a smirk. 

     Draco sighed. "Yes. Her birthday is in less than a week, and I wanted to get her something," he answered, already regretting his decision to tell her. 

     "I won't tell a soul," Lavender said, making an 'X' motion over her chest. "Cross my heart and hope to die."

     Draco raised a brow. "Alright. Hopefully it won't come to that point."

     Lavender smiled, sitting down on the couch next to him. "You want any help?" she asked cheerfully, but Draco declined. 

     "No, it's a sticking charm, and they're difficult..." he sighed. "I'm close. You can go back to bed."

     Lavender stood up. "Alright then. Goodnight!" And  with that, and went back upstairs, leaving Draco alone. He spent the next hour sticking the paper into the book, and it was nearly midnight when he finally finished. 

     He smiled proudly at his artwork before putting his wand down. He rubbed his eyes, looking at the clock. 

      _Hmm. It's a bit late,_ he thought, before falling asleep on the couch. 

* * *

    "Draco! Wake up!" 

    Draco groaned, waving Hermione off tiredly. "Ten more minutes."

    She huffed, and he heard loud footsteps walking away. He smiled, curling back up, but then he heard the curtains being jerked back, and the sunlight hit him right in the eyes. He grimaced, pulling the blanket up over his head and burying his face in the couch, before immediately pulling back to take off his glasses. 

    "Wait...why am I wearing my glasses...?" he muttered, blinking. He looked around, squinting against the bright sunlight. His gaze fell on the parchment and pencils in his lap and realization dawned on him. "Oh."

    Hermione looked at him sternly, her hands on her hips. "Draco, I'm all for studying, but you really have to get a decent amount of sleep."

    Draco nearly sighed in reliefShe hadn't actually _seen_  the bookand sat up. "Sorry," he said. "Won't happen again."

    Hermione rolled her eyes. "Anyway, come on! We've got flying lessons, and I don't fancy going alone. I already had to cover for you in History of Magic, luckily Binns doesn't really pay attention to attendance"

 ~~~~"I missed History of Magic!?" Draco stood up, sending pencils and parchment flying. "What else have I missed!?"

     Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just History of Magic. Transfiguration is next, though, and I told Professor McGonagall I was getting my book. But you have to hurry, she won't wait very long..."

     She grabbed his hand and dragged him up to his dormitory, shoving him into the bathroom and throwing a uniform at him. "Get dressed, quickly. I'll get your things." She slammed the door before Draco could object.

     Draco got dressed quickly before running out, still buttoning his shirt. He grabbed his bag from Hermione's handsThen grabbed her hand ~~.~~  and ran down to the common room, shoving the book in his bag and hurrying           out, running to the Transfiguration classroom. He and Hermione sat down just before the bell rang, and Draco breathed a sigh of relief. 

     Hermione sighed, getting her wand and a book from her bag. Draco dug through his bag, biting his lip. "D'you by any chance have a spare copy of that book?" he asked. 

     "Of course I don't, Draco!" she snapped impatiently. "Didn't you bring yours?"

     "I forgot! I thought it was supposed to be Saturday..." He laid his face on the desk, sighing. "Is McGonagall here yet?"

     " _Professor_  McGonagall _is_  here," Hermione said, moving him so he was upright and gesturing to the tabby cat lounging on the teacher's desk. 

     "Oh, right, I forgot..." Draco sat up straight, sighing. The cat looked at him sternly and hopped off the desk, transforming into Professor McGonagall. 

     "Glad to see you made it to my class, Tonks." She turned to Hermione. "Miss Granger, in the future, I'd not recommend lying to me. Five points from Gryffindor." She looked at Draco again. "From each of you."

    There was a collective groan from the rest of the Gryffindor students; Meanwhile, the Slytherin students were exchanging high-fives and smirks. Hermione shot Draco an angry glare, and he looked down, biting his lip. "Sorry."

     Hermione rolled her eyes, shaking her head, and opened her book. 

     The lesson proceeded without any further disruption, as did the rest of the day. By 3:30, Draco was ready to just lie down and sleep, but Harry reminded him,  _again,_ for the  _fifth time that day,_ that they had flying lessons, so his hopes for a relaxing evening were dashed. 

    All the Gryffindor and Slytherin first-years had assembled on the lawn near the Forbidden Forest, and each of them had a broom. 

    "Now, I want you to stick your right hand over your broom and say 'Up!'" Madam Hooch said. 

    The class followed her instructions, many of them having to repeatedly shout "up!"; Draco and Harry got it on the first try, but Ron's broom hit him in the face, and Hermione's wouldn't budge. Hortensia managed quite easily, though, and smiled at Draco happily.

    He returned the smile. Surprisingly for Hermione and Harry, he was actually quite confident about this class; Potions and History were ridiculously difficult for him, but  _flying ~~t~~ hat _was something he could do. 

    "Now, once you've got hold of your broom, I want you to mount it."  The students complied, and she nodded. "Grip it tightly! You don't want to be sliding off the end." 

    She walked down the rows of students, correcting their grips when necessary; Draco bit his lip to keep from snapping at a few Slytherin boys who laughed when his grip had to be corrected. Evidently he'd been doing it wrong his whole life. 

    "Now, kick off hard from the ground, hover for a moment, then lean forward and gently touch down." Again, the students followed her instructions, but Neville seemed to be having trouble getting his broom to come back down; Instead,he rocketed off toward the castle, nearly taking off Hortensia's head. The students turned, watching helplessly as he crashed once, then twice, then three times into the castle, before finally falling to the ground.

    "Oh, dear...Stay here!" Madam Hooch ran off across the lawn. "Oh dear...it's a broken wrist. Everyone stay here while I take mister Longbottom to the hospital wing! If I see one broom in the air, the person on it will be expelled from Hogwarts before they can say Quidditch... " She walked inside with Neville.

    Hortensia laughed, picking something up off the ground; When Draco squinted he could see it was a Remembrall. "Did you see his face?" Hortensia asked, tossing the ball in the air and catching it. "Maybe if he'd given this a squeeze, he'd have remembered to fall on his fat arse!"

     "Hortensia!" Draco exclaimed, at the same time as Harry shouted, "Give it back, Maverick!"

     Hortensia smiled sweetly. "No, I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find. How about..." She mounted her broom, smirking. "Up a tree?"

     "Hortensia, no!" Draco shouted, but she'd already taken off. Harry mounted his broom, but Hermione reached out to stop him. 

     "No way! Madam Hooch said! Besides, you don't even know how to  _fly_ "

     But Harry had already taken off, and was flying after Hortensia. "What. An. Idiot," Hermione said, glaring disapprovingly after Harry. 

     Draco frowned, turning away. He sat down, his face in his hands. Hermione frowned and looked at him, sitting down next to him. "Draco, are you alright?"

     "I'm fine," he muttered, sighing. "Just..."

     She sighed, rubbing his back. "I understand... "

     He stood, grabbing his broom. "I'm going after them."

      "Draco, no! You can't, you'll be  _expelled ~~.~~_ "

      "At least I'll be in good company." He mounted his broom and took off, flying after Harry and Hortensia. 

      Hortensia looked at him, eyes wide. "Draco"

       "Hortensia, give the Remembrall back and get down," he said firmly. 

       "Why?" Hortensia narrowed her eyes. "Don't tell me you're friends with that Squib?"

       "Yes! I am! And he's not a Squib!" 

       "Draco, listen. You're better than he is. You have purer blood."

       "I'm a half-blood! And it doesn't matter anyway." 

      Hortensia laughed. "You mean Andromeda and Ted never told you?" 

       "Told me what!?"

       "They're not really your parents."

        Draco growled, about to argue, but Harry interrupted. "Shut up, Maverick, and give that here before I knock you off your broom!"

        Hortensia's eyes widened, and she ducked as Harry dove at her. She dropped the Remembrall, and Harry turned his broom downward, swooping in a deep dive and catching the glass ball just before it hit the ground. He landed smoothly, dismounting his broom. Hortensia and Draco landed, glaring at each other.

      "What do you mean, they're not my parents?" Draco asked in a low voice, but before Hortensia could answer, a loud, distinct call from Professor McGonagall interrupted.

       "Harry Potter!"


	9. Chapter eight

_"Seeker!?"_

Draco and Ron sat by the fire in the common room that night, staring  at Harry, who'd just broken the news to them.

   "Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron said, grinning. "You must be the youngest Quidditch player in..."

   "A century," Harry said. 

   Draco bit his lip, nodding slightly. He'd been rather quiet this whole time. "Isn't it against the rules for first-years to play?"

    Ron shook his head. "Never happens, but it's not against the rules." He looked at Harry again. "Blimey... _seeker!"_

    Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I need to get some sleep...wake me up for dinner," he muttered , going up to the dormitory and collapsing on his bed. 

      _How is that even fair!?_ he thought, biting his lip.  _He's never even flown before! He doesn't know what Quidditch_  is!  _How's he allowed to be on the team?_

Draco bit his lip harder, shaking his head fiercely.  _I am not jealous. I'm happy for him,_ he insisted to himself.  _And I'm not going to let this get in the way of us being friends._

"Draco? Are you alright?" The door opened and Hermione's face peered around it. "Ronald said you seemed upset..."

   "I'm not upset." Draco sat up, looking at Hermione. "Just tired." 

  Hermione frowned worriedly. "Draco, that's the most common thing people say when they're upset." 

  He bit his lip. "It's not like you'd understand..." 

   "Draco, if you're jealous of Harry just say it. I'll understand—"

   "I'm fine," he insisted. "I'm not jealous." He stood up, getting his bag and walking past Hermione. 

    "Where are you going?" Hermione asked.

    "I need to take a walk. Don't wait up." Draco walked out of the dormitory, ignoring Hermione's protests. 

     He went to the library, which was mostly empty, and got a book off a shelf. 

     "What's that?"

     Draco turned abruptly to see Hortensia, smiling and looking for all the world like a sweet, innocent girl. 

     "It's a book," he spat, turning away. "Don't you have some Hufflepuffs to bully?" 

     "Draco, I'm sorry about earlier...It was just a bit of fun, honest..." Hortensia pleaded. "I didn't mean to upset you."

      "Hortensia, please just leave me alone..."

     "I'm sorry!" Hortensia said loudly, attracting a glare from Madam Pince, the librarian. "I really am! I'll prove it to you!"

     Draco stared at her carefully. "Are you sure?"

     "I promise." Hortensia sighed. "I really am sorry. I just...I'm having a hard time with classes and the other students...I needed to let out my anger. I didn't mean to upset you at all."

     Draco looked at her, concerned. "The other students?"

     "The other students in my house...They've been bullying me for being Muggle-born." Hortensia looked down, clasping her hands together. "I don't know why..." 

    Draco frowned. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, looking into her eyes, which shined with tears. 

    "I didn't want to bother you..." she said. "I figured you probably had enough to deal with."

    Draco hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and hugging her tightly. "You can tell me. If you're having problems..."

    Hortensia sniffled, wiping her eyes. "You always seemed to be busy with Hermione..." she mumbled, hugging him. "I didn't want to be in the way."

    A wave of guilt swept over Draco. "I'm sorry...I'll try to include you more. I've gotten used to classes now, so I'll be able to fit more spare time into my schedule."

    Hortensia smiled a little. "Thank you," she said.

    Draco nodded. "And if anyone bothers you again, tell me. I'll get them for you."

    Hortensia nodded. "Alright..." she smiled softly. 

    Draco smiled softly, but it faded away as he remembered something. "So...I wanted to ask you something..." 

    "Alright?" Hortensia asked, biting her lip.

    "What did you mean earlier, when you said...the thing about my parents?" Draco asked anxiously. 

    "Oh...um..." Hortensia looked at him, seeming uncomfortable. "I really feel like that's something you need to ask them..." 

    Draco sighed. "Alright..." He looked around. "It's getting late, should we get back to our dormitories?"

    Hortensia nodded, hugging him quickly. "Goodnight," she said. 

    "Night," he replied, hugging back. "See you tomorrow." 

    "See you tomorrow," she said, pulling away and heading out of the library. Draco sighed, checking out the book he'd picked and going back to Gryffindor Tower. 

    He didn't say anything to Harry or Ron as he passed them in the common room, instead going straight to the boys' dormitory and sitting down on his bed. He opened his book, looking through the table of contents and thumbing through the book to the page he needed. 

    " _Notable Pureblood families of Wizarding Britain_ , _"_  he read, his hand shaking as he turned the pages of the book until he reached the paragraph labeled, "Andromeda Tonks: Achievements and Family."

    Draco skimmed through the chapter, noticing his sister's name mentioned many times, but never his.  _Maybe it's an older edition,_ he thought, but when he read the words, "Nymphadora, or  'Tonks', as she prefers to be known, is currently in training to become an Auror," he was forced to accept that the book was a newer version. He flipped through the rest of the chapter, pausing when he saw his own name. 

    "In the winter of 1980, when the Dark Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his power, Andromeda's sister and brother-in-law, Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, were arrested for crimes against the Wizarding World." 

    Draco's eyes widened. The name 'Malfoy' seemed familiar.  _Isn't that what Hermione called me on the train?_ he thought. Intrigued and nervous, he kept reading. 

   "Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy had a young child; A baby boy, born in June of that year, named" — Draco closed his eyes for a moment and tried to prepare himself before he continued reading — "Draco. Following her sister's arrest, Andromeda Tonks took in the child, raising him as her own. As of now (1991), sources (Andromeda  and her husband, Edward) say Draco has no knowledge of his adoption, or his real parents."

    Draco slammed the book shut with a  _bang,_ breathing heavily. "No...no...it's not true..." he whispered to himself, close to panicking. "It's not true..." He slid off the bed and onto the floor, clutching the book like a lifeline and closing his eyes tightly. He faintly felt something on his face; He grimaced when he realized it was a tear. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes, but tears kept falling. His throat ached from holding in sobs, and his eyes were rubbed raw as he tried in vain to stop the tears.

    He didn't have time to draw the curtain closed before he heard Ron's footsteps coming up the stairs. "Hey Draco, Harry and I were going to — Draco?" Ron stopped short, staring at Draco. "What's wrong?"

     Draco tried to reply, but he barely managed to choke out a word before Hermione walked into the room. "Draco, I  Oh my, are you okay?" She covered her mouth in shock, staring at him. 

    Draco attempted to reply, but all he managed was to stammer out some nonsense about allergies before Hermione had pounced on him, engulfing him in a tight hug. He hugged back, burying his face in her bushy hair, not really wanting to come back out. Hermione pulled away after a moment, reaching for the book. "What happened?" she asked gently.

    Draco panicked. He clutched the book to his chest, standing up, and bolted from the room, ignoring Ron and Hermione's shocked gasps, and ran for the Owlery. Once there, he dug a piece of parchment and a crumpled quill out of his bag, opening a bottle of ink with trembling hands and scribbling out a letter, ink blots and tears staining the parchment, making the writing barely legible, but he didn't care. He signed the letter, folded it, and gave it to a school owl, before running out and collapsing against the wall, sobbing into his hands.

     _Why is my life like this?_


	10. Chapter nine

Narcissa Malfoy was miserable. After eleven years in a cold, dark prison cell, with Dementors guarding her 24/7, she should be jumping with joy now she was free. But she wasn't, for a number of reasons. For example, the Wizengamot denying her custody of her own son. Or her sister's refusal to even let her _meet_ the boy. Or the fact that it would still be another year before she or Lucius could leave the house without a chaperone. 

    "Have the gardens been tended?" Lucius suggested as his wife paced the length of the sitting room.  _If she keeps that up, the carpet will be on fire,_ he thought. 

     "Yes, I tended them this morning," Narcissa snapped, continuing her pacing. The rug was already wearing thin from the amount of pacing she'd been doing. "And I cleaned our room, and the nursery, and the upstairs sitting room." She sighed. "Why isn't Andromeda replying to my letters?" she hissed in frustration. 

    "The fact that you've recently been released from prison, perhaps?" Lucius prompted, wandlessly levitating a glass of mead into his hand; The Ministry of Magic had elected to withhold custody of their wands until a full year and six months had passed, so Lucius had dug out every book on wandless magic he could find in the Manor's extensive library, and both he and Narcissa were making great progress. 

    "I know that, but it's not an excuse to ignore me! She's raising my son, for Merlin's sake!" Narcissa spat, sparks crackling and sizzling at her fingertips. "I may just write directly to him, and tell him myself!"

    "Now, dear, let's not make any rash decisions," Lucius said. "We can't do anything of the sort without Andromeda's consent," he reminded her. "And, much as I'd like to meet my son,  we can't get in the way of the law." He held up  his right hand, which had a band of red light encircling the wrist; He nodded towards Narcissa's wrist, which had a matching band. 

    "I know, I know, but if she doesn't reply soon, I'll likely be willing to give up my hand," Narcissa  said irritably, settling into a chair beside the empty fireplace. 

    Lucius sighed. "We simply have to be patient, dear. Rushing into things is hardly ever a good idea," he advised. "Remember what happened with Sirius."

    Narcissa sighed heavily, examining her well-manicured fingernails. "I suppose you're right," she conceded.  "Perhaps I'll get started on the guest bedrooms..." She laughed sardonically, standing. "As if we'd have guests..."

     Lucius sighed. "Don't tire yourself, Narcissa. There's plenty of time. Relax and have a drink," he suggested, nodding towards his own glass. "You need a bit of relaxation, you've spent the last two months cleaning up the Manor."

    Narcissa hesitated a moment before sitting back down. "Yes," she said finally. "That's just what I need." 

    Lucius stood, planting a swift kiss on her cheek. "What will you have?"

    Narcissa smiled softly, an expression Lucius hadn't seen in many a  moon. "I'll just have a glass of that mead, if you don't mind," she replied, resting her hand on his and squeezing for a moment. 

    Lucius smiled softly. "Very well." He straightened, briskly walking to the kitchen, his long whitish hair flowing around his shoulders. Narcissa sighed, sinking into the comfortable armchair, which she'd received as a gift from her mother shortly after finding out she was pregnant with Draco, and closed her eyes. 

    _Maybe Lucius is right...Maybe all we can do is wait._

* * *

Andromeda was sitting at the table, surrounded by stacks of letters, many of them from her sister, requesting to meet Draco. Andromeda was sorting through them when she came across one letter different from the rest; The address was written sloppily, as if  the writer was in a hurry, and the ink had run; The envelope was wrinkled, too, like it had been wet and then dried.  

     _That's strange,_ she thought, slitting the envelope open and reading the letter, which was no less hastily written. 

    " _Mum, I need to talk to you about something and it can't wait.  I read something  about us and I need to know if it's true."_

Andromeda paused, biting her lip.  _No...He can't have found out._ She continued reading.

     _"Is it true that you're not really my parents? Hortensia told me, and Hermione called me by the wrong last name. Are my parents really in prison? What did they do? The book said they committed crimes against the Wizarding World._

      _Please tell me, mum. Please. I'm scared and I need your help."_

There the letter ended, and Andromeda released a shuddering sigh. "Oh, no..." She folded the letter, clutching it tightly to her chest. "No..." 

     She scrabbled for a quill, grabbing a spare piece of parchment, and started frantically writing.

      _"Dear Draco, yes, it's true. Your real parents are my sister Narcissa and her husband, Lucius. They did go to prison, but they were recently released. Narcissa has been trying to get me to allow her to meet you, but I didn't want her to without you knowing the truth. I suppose it's too late now._

_I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'll see you as soon as possible, I'll even stop by tomorrow if it'll help. I just want you to know, I've always seen you as my son, regardless of your birth. I love you._

_Love, Mother."_

Andromeda sealed the letter in an envelope, giving it  to Terrace. "Hurry, take this to Draco," she said, and the owl flew out the open window. Andromeda sighed shakily, placing her head in her hands. "What am I going to do?" she murmured, blinking against the tears threatening to spill over. "What am I going to do...?"

* * *

Draco woke up in an unfamiliar bed, a heavy weight on his forehead. It took him a moment to realize it was a wet cloth. He blinked, trying to let his eyes adjust to the bright light shining in them. He sat up, wincing, and looked around. A moment's glance around the room told him he was in the Hospital Wing. Another glance told him he wasn't alone. 

    "Hermione?" he croaked, squinting; He wasn't sure where his glasses were. Hermione picked them up, putting them on him. "What happened?" 

    Hermione hesitated. "You passed out. Ron found you outside the Owlery." She seemed to think for a moment before reaching into her bag and pulling out... "You dropped this," she said quietly. "I...I didn't mean to pry, but..." Draco looked at her and saw her eyes were wide, and the hand holding the book was shaking; Whether with nerves or the weight of the book, he couldn't tell. "I couldn't help it, the book was open, and...I saw." Hermione's voice wavered as she said it. "I'm sorry..."

    Draco sighed. "Oh...don't be sorry, you didn't know..." He looked around. "How'd I get here?"

    "Professor McGonagall. She used a spell to take you up here." Hermione sighed. "How're you feeling?"

    "Bloody awful..." he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "What time is it?"

    "It's ten in the morning...Sunday." Hermione bit her lip.

    Draco's eyes widened. "Sunday? What day did I pass out?"

    "Friday. Madam Pomfrey said you'd overworked yourself, and just needed to rest." 

    "Oh..." He sighed, stretching. "I'll try not to do that again, then..." 

    Hermione sighed. "You should get dressed, I'll go tell Harry and Ron you're awake."

    Draco realized then that the other boys were nowhere to be seen. He felt a pang of disappointment. "Oh. Alright." Hermione smiled a little and stood, walking out. Draco leaned back, sighing. A minute or two later Hermione returned, Harry and Ron following some distance behind, with Hortensia bringing up the rear.

    "Draco!" Ron practically screamed, and he and Harry all but tackled Draco in  a rib-crushing hug. He smiled, his previous disappointment replaced by a warmth, filling him like a hot drink. "Sorry we weren't here when you woke up, Madam Pomfrey kicked us out. Said we were being too loud."

    Draco chuckled. "It's fine," he said, his voice still hoarse. "What have I missed?"

    "Not a whole lot," Harry said.  "Wood taught me how to play Quidditch."

    Draco nodded. "When's the first match?"

    Harry shrugged. "Not too soon. The team needs practice."

    "I see." 

    Hortensia sighed, sitting on the bed. "How are you feeling?" she asked gently. "I'm so sorry about what happened, if I'd known  how you'd react I wouldn't have told you.."

    "It's not your fault, I got the book out..." He looked at Hortensia, guilt stinging his chest at her sad expression. "You're not to blame."

    "I'm sorry! I've been absolutely horrid to you..." she said miserably. 

     "You haven't been horrible..." Draco pulled her into a tight hug, biting his lip. "I'm sorry if I made you feel that way..."

     Hortensia sighed. "You're a great friend, Draco..."

     Draco sighed. "You are too, Hortensia." He looked at Harry, Ron and Hermione, beckoning them forward. They stepped toward him, and he pulled Harry into the hug. Ron and Hermione soon joined.

     "Oh, don't crowd the boy!" Madam Pomfrey snapped, shooing them away. "He needs rest!" 

     "See you tomorrow!" Draco called as the small group left the Hospital Wing, leaving him mostly alone, with only a couple of unconscious fifth-year Ravenclaws for company. He sighed, laying down and taking off his glasses, and soon fell into a comfortable sleep.


	11. Chapter ten

Thursday went by too slowly. Draco sat at his desk in the last class of the day, History of Magic, tapping his quill against his knee impatiently and watching the clock behind Professor Binns's head. He didn't bother taking notes  ~~\--~~ he'd already read the book  ~~\--~~  and as soon as the bell went, he was out the door with the rest of the students, and running to the Gryffindor Tower. He ran to his dormitory, digging a wrapped package out of his trunk, and ran back outside to the courtyard, where Hermione was, predictably, sitting and reading.

   "Hey, Hermione," he said, out of breath. Hermione was silent, keeping the book over her face, and Draco frowned. "Hermione?" he said again. "You alright?"

   "I'm fine," she replied quietly. Draco frowned; Hermione wasn't usually quiet about anything. He sat down next to her, looking over at her; He bit his lip when he noticed tears in her eyes.

    "Hermione, what's wrong?" he asked gently. Hermione shook her head, not answering. He frowned. "You can tell me. Is it Nott? Parkinson? I can talk to them  ~~\--~~ "

    "No," Hermione said, putting her book down and wiping her eyes on her sleeve. "It's none of that, it's just..." she sighed. "None of my friends from Muggle school have written. And it's not like I have friends here..." 

   Draco frowned. "But I'm your friend, Hermione."

   She laughed humorlessly. "Why d'you want to be friends with an 'annoying swot' like me? That is what Ron called me, right?"

   Draco sighed. "I wouldn't know, I tuned him out when he started talking about your organizing habits." He put an arm around her shoulders. "I like being friends with you. Look, are you gonna let me wish you a happy birthday or not?"

    Hermione looked at him, surprised, her eyes flickering to the package, which she'd just noticed. "I ~~-~~ You remembered?"  
   
     "That's what friends do, right? I've got everyone's  ~~\--~~  that I know, at least. Haven't asked Harry yet, but it's in the middle of summer. Anyway  ~~\--~~ " Draco set the package on her lap. "Happy birthday, Hermione."

    Hermione stared at the package, speechless, before finally starting to tear away the paper. Within seconds the plain brown paper laid in a pile on the ground, and Hermione's eyes were wide as she stared at the faded gold print on the cover of the book. "Draco, this is  ~~\--~~ "  
     
     "A first-edition copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to find them," Draco said, smiling. Hermione grinned, carefully turning the delicate pages of the old book.

     "This is amazing, how'd you get this?" she asked.   
      
     Draco shrugged. "Mother had it laying around the house somewhere. It belonged to her great-grandfather. I figured you might like it."

     "Like it? I love this, Draco!" Hermione threw her arms around him. A moment later she pulled away quickly, her face red. "Thanks," she said.

     Draco smiled. "There's something else, too." He pointed to the other book, sitting on the bench between them. Hermione picked it up, looking at the cover of the heavy book.

      " _Hogwarts, a History?_ " she said, opening the book. Her eyes widened slightly as she saw the picture at the front of the book. "Draco, did you draw this?" she asked, and Draco felt his face turn red.

      "Yeah..." he answered, biting his lip. 

      Hermione smiled. "It's good! Much better than anything I could do." She hugged him tightly again, sighing. "Thank you."

      Draco chuckled. "You're welcome." He tried to ruffle her hair as he had with Dora many times, but his fingers got caught in the bushy mane. "Oh, um..." He twisted his hand this way and that, trying to disentangle it from Hermione's hair. Hermione went red and ducked away from his hand, yanking out some strands of her hair in the process, and tangling others tighter around Draco's fingers. He winced, already beginning to lose circulation in his fingertips. 

     "Ow!" Hermione exclaimed. She reached up and carefully disentangled her friend's hand. She finally was able to pull away and straighten up, sighing heavily. "Well."

    "Sorry," Draco said, helping her pick up the books she'd dropped. 

     "It's alright. I should go, my books are due back at the library. Thank you," she added, hugging him quickly before running off to the library. Draco smiled softly, watching as she ran off, her bushy brown hair bouncing. He frowned slightly as a sudden thought came to mind.

      _Your real parents would probably kill you if they knew._

"Well, they're not going to know, are they?" he muttered. "Mum and Dad don't care..." With that he picked up his bag and walked inside to the common room. He had some homework to do.


	12. Chapter eleven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you like the new chapter! please comment your thoughts, i love hearing feedback.

Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy stood in front of the grand fireplace, Narcissa clutching Lucius's wrist so hard he worried his hand might fall off. Narcissa could barely contain the excited squeal that threatened to escape her at any moment — At long last, they were going to meet their son!

   "Oh, Lucius, what if ~~\--~~ What if he's angry?" Narcissa asked anxiously. Lucius rolled his eyes ~~\--~~ His wife had been badgering him with similar questions for the whole week since they'd received Andromeda's letter agreeing to bring the boy to meet them ~~\--~~ and patted her hand. 

    "Narcissa, calm down," he said, having worked out all his anxiety throughout the week. "It'll be alright."

    Narcissa sighed. "I hope so. Oh! There they are!" She dragged Lucius aside as two people tumbled out of the fireplace. Andromeda stood up, brushing soot off her robes — Much to Narcissa's dismay — And helped her companion to his feet, brushing ash off his shirt. 

    "Honestly, Draco, did you have to wear a white shirt?" she complained. 

    "Sorry, Mum, Dad's the one who picked it out, not me..." At the sound of his voice, Narcissa's heart stopped. He sounded so, so much like Lucius had when he was young. He looked just like him, too...but with the unfortunate addition of some rather outdated glasses. 

     "Draco?" she said breathlessly. 

     He looked up, his eyes widening. "Oh, um. Narcissa." He straightened out his robe, and his lips — Which Narcissa could see were rough and chapped — split into a nervous-looking smile. "Hi."

     Lucius  stepped forward, resting his hand on Narcissa's shoulder. "Draco." His voice was hoarse, and his eyes traveled over his son, assessing and evaluating everything from head to toe. Draco clasped his hands together, looking up at the two adults. 

     "Um...uh..." He stuttered, looking very tense. Andromeda stepped forward, putting her arm around Draco's shoulders. "Narcissa," she said calmly. "How...nice, to see you again," she added, faking a smile. Narcissa watched her, putting on a faux smile of her own, but her eyes remained cold as ever. 

     "The pleasure is all mine, Andromeda." She stepped forward, her eyes lighting up when Draco looked up at her. "And you..." she sighed breathlessly, silent for a few moments. "Oh, Draco...." she placed an age-softened, thin hand on his cheek. "I can see Andromeda's been taking care of you well, though.." her gaze lingered on the boy's messy, soot-stained hair. "Your hair leaves something to be desired." She straightened up. "Well, no matter. A few days in our care and you'll look like a proper Pureblood." Draco's eyes widened, and he moved towards Andromeda.

    Andromeda cleared her throat. "Excuse me, Narcissa, but Draco is, legally, my son." Her hand on Draco's shoulder squeezed lightly, and he leaned into her side. "You've been denied custody, so he will not be staying with you, no matter how much you want him to." 

    Narcissa scoffed. "You're not the one who gave birth to him."

    "I'm the one who raised him!" Andromeda countered, and Draco felt her tense; Narcissa had struck a nerve. He stepped backwards, towards the fireplace. Narcissa's face twisted into an angry scowl.

     "Had Lucius and I not been arrested ~~\--~~ "

    "He would have grown up with a pair of criminals for parents!" Andromeda spat. "A little mini-Lucius, who parrots everything his father says, grows up without a single thought of his own!" 

    "How dare you!" Draco jumped back as Narcissa lunged at her sister, and the only thing that kept her from reaching out and strangling her was Lucius's arms wrapping tightly around her waist and restraining her. 

    "It's probably best you go," he said, clenching his jaw. "Now." 

    Andromeda nodded, grabbing Draco's arm and a handful of Floo Powder, and stepped into the fireplace. Moments later they tumbled out onto the carpet of their living room at home. Draco was noticeably shaken. Andromeda pulled him into a tight hug, sighing shakily. "I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "You shouldn't have had to see that."

    Draco looked down, sighing. "I didn't expect much anyway." He laid his head on Andromeda's shoulder. "I'm sorry..."

    "It's okay, Draco. There's nothing to be sorry about." She kissed his head, rubbing his back. "You did nothing wrong."

    "I'm the one who asked to go in the first place..." he buried his face in her shoulder, hugging her tightly. 

    "Draco, it is not your fault." She laid her hands on his shoulders, kissing his forehead. "Come on, I'll fix some tea..." She led him to the kitchen, her hand resting lightly on his back in a comforting gesture. He sighed, sitting down at the table and burying his face in his arms. 

    "I never thought I'd be disappointed that my parents liked me," he muttered, chuckling dryly. "And yet, here we are."

    Andromeda managed a smile, pouring some tea into two mugs and sitting across from Draco at the small table. "Well, I didn't expect her to react so strongly...She wasn't like that when we were younger." She sighed heavily. "I suppose that's what Azkaban does to a person..." 

    Draco shrugged, pulling his cup of tea towards him and taking a small sip. "Well, I've got you at least. And Dad." He looked around, sighing. "Dora's still not back," he observed. His sister had left for a training mission early in the morning, but still had not returned. Andromeda sighed. "She probably went to meet up with Charlie..."

    "Charlie's in Romania, Mum. Remember, Dora went to his going-away party." Draco took another drink of his tea, then finished it off in one large gulp. "Maybe training went late."  

    Andromeda sighed , nodding. "No point getting bent out of shape over nothing, I suppose." She stood, taking hers and Draco's empty cups, taking them to the sink. "Why don't you go lie down, or get to work on your homework?"

    "Don't have any," he muttered. "Except Snape's essay, and I have to do that at school. Haven't got a library here." 

    "Alright, then why don't you go lie down?" Andromeda put her hand under his chin, tilting his head up to look him in the eye. "You've got dark circles, and your eyes are all red. I told you not to stay up so late..." 

   He shrugged. "I couldn't help it. I had homework to finish." He reached across the table, picking up the book that laid there and opening it. He flipped through the pages, biting his lip, before closing it again. "Mum, can I get a sandwich?"  
     
   "Sure, dear, just clean up when you're done." Andromeda stood. "I'm going to go read in my room for a while. If you need anything, you know where I am."

   "Thanks, Mum. Seeya." He waved as his mother walked out of the room, before picking up his own book and walking to his room. He sat on his bed, shifting the pillows until he was comfortable, and settled in to read the last few chapters of _Pride and Prejudice,_ with Tabby resting comfortably on his stomach _._ When he finally reached the last page and closed the book, he found his eyelids growing heavy, and he had hardly taken off his shoes and soot-stained shirt before he fell asleep, hugging Tabby close to his chest, all thoughts of that afternoon's tense encounter chased from his mind. 


	13. Chapter twelve

Draco spent much of the winter holidays lying in bed and getting over a cold. Hortensia visited several times, and Dora repeatedly teased him over it.

    "She likes you more than Tabby does, and that's saying something," Dora commented as Hortensia was leaving one day. Draco glared at her, his cheeks growing warm, but didn't reply, instead throwing a pillow at her head. Dora laughed and left the room. 

     _She acts like I'm some girl-crazy teenager,_ he thought exasperatedly, rolling his eyes as he laid back on the bed, picking up his Charms book and reading through until he reached Chapter five:  _healing charms._ If he was going to be sick, he was going to learn something to keep it from happening again. 

   Hermione wrote to him twice, and Ron wrote five times. Hermione, it seemed, was enjoying her holidays with her parents. Ron and Harry had gotten into some kind of mischief, which involved sneaking into the library Restricted Section, an  _Invisibility Cloak,_ and some bizarre mirror. Neither Ron nor Harry found anything on Nicolas Flamel. 

   Draco returned to school early, wanting to help his friends find out more about Nicolas Flamel, and was immediately dragged off through the corridors by Harry and Ron. They dropped him on the floor in front of a tall, ornate mirror. He frowned, puzzled, and looked at Harry. "What's —" 

    "Just look!" Harry said, pointing at the mirror. Draco frowned at Harry, about to protest, but his curiosity got the better of him and he turned to look. His eyes widened at what he saw reflected in it.

    It was him; Yet somehow it wasn't. The boy in the mirror was taller, and somehow more confident. He looked older. Draco could see a Head Boy badge on his older self's chest, next to a Quidditch Captain badge. 

    Beside him in the mirror stood Hortensia, gazing at Draco's older self with admiration. She smiled, winding her fingers through his. Then she turned her head, seeming to look out of the mirror, right at Draco. He swallowed hard, looking to the other side of the mirror.

    There stood his parents and Dora; but also Narcissa and Lucius. Narcissa no longer had the sickly pallor and thin frame that Draco had seen when he had visited her; she was still pale, but she looked healthy, full of life. Almost glowing. She gazed at him with a fondness he had only ever seen on his mother's face, and none of the hatred he had seen before. 

    _It isn't real. You'll never have this._

     Draco bit his lip and stood shakily, backing away from the mirror. "This isn't...real, is it?" 

    Harry shook his head. "No. I think it shows you what you want." He gave Draco a quizzical look. "Why? What did you see?"

    Draco shook his head. "Nothing, it's...it's nothing."

    Harry frowned but didn't push it, though Draco could tell he wanted to. Draco sighed. "Come on, we've got studying to do. And we need to find out more on this Nicolas Flamel." 

     Harry nodded, grabbing his arm. "Come on, I've got something to show you." And, once again, Draco found himself being dragged through the corridors by Ron and Harry.

     Ten minutes later he was sat on the floor in the Gryffindor dormitory, marveling at the sight before him: Harry, invisible from the neck down. 

    "Where did you _get_ that?" He asked, wide-eyed, as Harry took off the cloak. Harry shrugged. 

    "I don't know. I got it for Christmas, but it wasn't signed..." 

    Draco frowned, straightening up. "That's suspicious. Invisibility Cloaks aren't cheap, and that looks like a  _real_ one, not just Demiguise hair or Disillusionment Charm. Why would someone be sending you that?"

    Harry shrugged again. "I don't know. The note just said 'use it well'. It said it belonged to my father..."

    "Hm. I didn't know your father had an Invisibility Cloak..."

    "Neither did I." Harry handed Draco the Cloak, shrugging yet again.  Draco turned it over in his hands, examining the slippery material up close. 

    "Definitely not Demiguise hair, Dora has one of those. The fibers are too fine, and...if it belonged to your father, then it would be more opaque with age." Draco handed the Cloak back. "I don't know what it's made of." 

    Harry shrugged. Draco stood up, stretching and checking his watch. "I'm going to the Great Hall, since it is now lunchtime and I am starving." He waved to Ron and Harry as he walked out of the dormitory. 

    Just before he reached the Great Hall, though, Draco was tackled in a tight hug. He let out a squeak of surprise, falling backward against the wall. He spat out long strands of black hair, chuckling, and adjusted his glasses. "Hortensia! I thought you had gone home!"

    Hortensia let go and grinned at him, punching his shoulder. "So had you, but you came back." She reached into her pocket. "I got you something, by the way. I meant to give it to you on Christmas, but something came up. Thanks for the sweets, by the way."

    Draco nodded. "No problem." He stood up straight, running a hand through his hair, and held his hand out when Hortensia told him to. He presently found a large, smooth, round white crystal in the palm of his hand. It shined iridescently, like a jewel, and had spots of light peach-pink scattered throughout. 

   "Whoa. What is this?" Draco turned the stone over, examining the shining surface. "Some kind of quartz?"

   Hortensia grinned enthusiastically. "Yep. Found it over the summer holidays. Spent a while polishing it smooth."

   Draco smiled a little. "Hortensia, this is...awesome, but I can't take this, it's...huge."

   Hortensia smiled. "It's nothing. Just a fancy rock." She reached out, ruffling Draco's hair. "I'm glad you're feeling better, by the way. It would've been miserable, being sick all holiday." 

    "Yeah. I swear, I was going mental if Dora tried to tell me about work again." He smiled. "I should get to lunch. Thanks for the rock." He tucked the gift into his pocket, "See you later."

    Hortensia nodded, her eyes following his hand. She seemed lost in thought for a moment, but she quickly shook it off. "Right. Yeah. See you later." She gave him a quick hug before hurrying off down the corridor, and Draco, mildly puzzled, walked into the Great Hall.


End file.
